Valentine Reject
by Spliced-up-Angel
Summary: On Valentine's Day, people wear red. Red is the colour of hearts, which symbolize love. Red is also the colour of blood, which, yes, is circulated by the heart; but also, is a result of a casualty. H/E. Valentine's Day Oneshot.


**Thought I'd do a little something for Valentine's Day. So, I chose the most random pairing possible! Since Harold is my favourite character, I was like, "why not?" Heh. This is dedicated to everyone who is single today. Enjoy and please R&R!**

**Valentine Reject**

On Valentine's Day, people wear red. Red is the colour of hearts, which symbolize love. Red is also the colour of blood, which, yes, is circulated by the heart; but also, is a result of a casualty.

Casualties can be a result of anything; a soldier at war, mobbed by a gangster, a typical bar fight, or getting rejected. In this case, the blood was a result of being rejected.

The Ginger felt the red, gooey liquid run down his hands, as he rushed through the hallways, into the boy's washroom. His throbbing nose had to be as broken as his heart; anything else would be implausible. He burst into the nearest crusty stall, grabbed the yellow-coloured toilet paper, and put it up to his bloody nose. He could feel the dripping substance soak into the paper, until there was no more dry space. Harold held his nose, and hung his head over the sink. He knew very well how easy it was to choke on blood if it were to drain down his throat. As a geek, Harold was often the victim to bullies, such as Duncan or Scott.

Harold felt it very difficult to breath out of just his mouth. He cursed his asthma for that. There was no sign of the blood stopping now. He wondered if he could find Cody tapped to the wall of one of the stalls, or Cameron locked in a never ending swirly; maybe they could help. Harold gave another deep breath, as he hiccupped on the blood he accidentally breathed through his naval cavity. Blood was running out of both breathing holes, now. The Ginger noted to himself not to breathe through the nose. Again.

Harold decided he would think about something to take his mind off his casualty. How did he end up with this broken nose? He asked the women out. She beat him up. Easy as that. But it was never that easy.

~o~

How did this tragic act of heartbreak begin?

Well, it started a few weeks ago. That woman Harold had loved for so many years had come out. Yes, LeShawna of all people. Harold always wondered why she was never into him. Anyway, she asked out the preppy cheerleader, Heather; of whom gladly accepted. Harold felt sick after this. He really did hope that LeShawna was just shy whenever she said they weren't meant to be. Alas, it was shown on that very day that she could never love him.

The Ginger decided to take a walk by the gym. He knew that he was late for an overdue after school fumbling arranged by Duncan, but that was the least of his worries; the Ginger just needed to clear his mind.

Harold entered the large gymnasium. The wooden bleachers had been put down because a basketball game took place earlier that day. He took a seat on the uncomfortable bleacher and looked around the room. Many flags, of which had been won, hung from the ceiling. Six basketball nets were attached to the four, rectangular walls. In front of him was the school logo, "Killer Bass", which was painted in greens and blues onto the pale coloured wall. Along the walls, there were five doors; two to exit the gym, two to go outside, and one leading into the weight room. The concrete floor was painted with different colour lines of which Harold never understood. He sighed, breathing loudly.

He felt a warm draft against his neck. Alarmed, he looked behind. Sitting behind him was no other than Duncan! He was unable to speak, unable to move. The wrong place at the wrong time. The delinquent smirked at the Ginger, "Hey, Dorkahontus. You missed our meeting. I just might need to teach you time management." This would be the time when Harold would have usually made a smart remark about how getting beat up had nothing to do with learning. It was a proven fact that children who had been beaten as a child are more subject to forgetting later on in life. But, Harold knew this wasn't the time. He locked eyes with Duncan, ready to scream. There was death in the delinquent's eyes. Harold knew that whatever would result, it would not be good. Just as Duncan's sweaty hands were going to grasp around Harold's throat, they heard a door open. Both the Ginger and the delinquent looked over to the door, which lead to the weight room. Eva and Jo walked out.

Now, Harold had always been afraid of Eva. He'd never talked to her, but she was very intimidating and was pretty much avoided by everyone. The only people who really spoke to her were Noah, Izzy and Jo. She was different, Eva intrigued him. Harold often wondered what was on Eva's mind.

"Hey! I'm trying to work out! Get lost, Duncan!" Eva yelled. Her eyes were shooting daggers through Duncan.

He smirked stupidly. Harold really hated Duncan. "Cool your jets, woman. I'm just going to kick his ass and be leaving."

"And you think kicking someone's ass is a good reason to interrupt my work out?" she snapped, "You best leave, or you'll be the one getting your ass kicked."

Duncan didn't say anything in response. He only laughed bitterly at Eva. He clearly had no idea of what she was capable of. Harold watched as Eva approached the delinquent and gave him the hardest punch to the stomach. He could hear the delinquent choke on his laughter. Harold grinned, but only for a moment, for he knew that when Duncan would get up and be ready to kick his ass soon enough.

Harold couldn't help feeling attracted to Eva; he liked a strong woman, who was not afraid of others. He supposed that was why he was so into LeShawna before. Harold couldn't get Eva off his mind; she was amazing. He began watching her after school, from afar. He began fantasizing about this miraculous woman. Harold yearned for Eva.

Finally, when Valentine's Day came, he decided that he would confess to her. Harold dressed up in his best suit, bought the most expensive box of chocolate, and purchased the most beautiful of roses. The Ginger stood there, waiting beside Eva's locker, with a nervous smile on his face. He waited for a while. He began to wonder if she would show up. Did he have the right locker? He looked around the corner… there was no sign of Eva. When almost losing all hope, she showed.

"Eva," he said.

She gave him a puzzled look, "What are you doing at my locker, dweeb?"

"I have come to ask you something. Eva," he got down on his knee and held out the gifts, "Will you be my Valentine?"

"You think you're being funny? Like this is some kind of joke?" she asked, looking very angered.

"Uh-uh" he was at a loss for words. What could he say? The Ginger stood up, and began walking backwards. He was now scared.

"Well, beat it!" she yelled. A fist swung and all Harold could see was black.

~o~

Now he was here. Here in the crusty high school washroom. His nose was still dripping, but in smaller droplets. Harold was still hardly breathing. His glasses had managed to fog up, making it even more difficult to see.

"Hey," he heard someone say. The sudden voice startled Harold. He resisted the urge to turn around due to his bloody nose. "Sorry about earlier," the voice continued, "I thought you were joking. Guys ask me every year to be their Valentine just to aggravate me. I just assumed that since you were a guy…" the voice trailed off, "that's beyond the point. Look, Harold, I will be your Valentine."

At that moment, his nose stopped bleeding. He didn't know it was biologically possible, but it happened. He looked up at the girl. Eva smiled a weak smile. She stood up on her tippy toes and kissed the Ginger, regardless of the blood that still existed in his mouth. Harold smiled. Yes. Healed hearts heal noses. Gosh.


End file.
